Bending Spoons
by Lady Celebare
Summary: Anakin can't understand why his training's going so poorly. He can't even do the little things that all the other pupils can. Can his mentor shed some light on the situation? Post-TPM, Pre-AOTC, NON-SLASH! Obi/Ani slash is icky. R&R!


**Notes: **Eeep, I've gone to the dark side of fanfiction!  The dreaded… little Anakin fics!!  Oh well, I can't help myself ^^  I still think little Ani was cute (if not slightly annoying).  He was ok until he grew up.  (Mutters darkly)  Oh well.  Whatever.  This little idea crept up on me while I was waiting to take my Religion final exams.  Enjoy!

He knew he was a disappointment to his mentor.  Every other student could do the things he struggled with, but no matter how many times his mentor explained it, he couldn't grasp the concept.  It was too huge.  He'd lost nine valuable years of learning, and was now almost irrevocably behind.  He often heard the frustration in his master's voice, and at times he could even _feel_ it, it was so apparent.  They spent hours training, but it didn't matter.  Anakin thought he could spend an entire week meditating on something and still not get it.

            The boy sat in front of a small durasteel table, nose wrinkled as he contemplated the task before him.  Three objects lay on the table: a spoon, a bowl, and some cereal.  His master had told him to pour himself a bowl of cereal – sans the messy milk – and scoop up some of it in the spoon, without using his hands.  Anakin wondered if it would be easier to use his feet.  He sighed heartily, rubbed at his eyes a few times to clear them, and focused on the box of sugared cereal.  It was his favorite – small artificially flavored puffballs with starship-shaped marshmallows.  He was really hungry, and though his master had told him to just eat if he couldn't get it, he refused to be a let-down again.  This time he would do it right.  He _had_ to.  He couldn't face his master again if he didn't.  Slowly he concentrated his thoughts on the cardboard box, reaching out with tentative tendrils of energy to touch it, grasp it, raise it up off the table.  It rose shakily for a fraction of an inch, and Anakin breathed a sigh of relief.  He could do this.  He just had to be careful not to exert too much force-

            But it was too late for that.  Drawn like a magnet, all the items on the table flew at his face.  The cereal scattered all over the floor of the small refresher unit, and the bowl clanged off the door as Anakin ducked.  The spoon as a little slower in coming and by the time it leaped off the table, Obi-Wan was already walking through the door.  The spoon struck him square in the eye.

            Anakin grimaced in embarrassment as his master danced around the unit in pain, rubbing at his face.  Obi-Wan growled something in a language Ani didn't understand as his bare feet hit an unusually large pile of sugared puffballs.  "Anakin, what is this?" he demanded, grabbing onto a counter for support.  Crumbs of cereal drifted to the floor as he brushed his feet off.

            "I'm sorry, Master," Anakin mumbled, trying to keep his voice steady.  "I was trying to do what you instructed me, and…"  he trailed off and made a motion with his hand, indicating the silverware on the floor.

            Obi-Wan let out a sigh of mingled exasperation and relief.  When Anakin hadn't come out of the refresher unit for three hours, he had begun to worry.  The fact that the boy had been working all that time cheered him slightly.  Anakin might not have any sort of basic training, but his desire to learn was unsurpassed.  "Is that all?" he said with an attempted smile.  "I'm glad to see you working to hard on your training."

            "I don't understand how I can work so hard and _still_ do stupid things like this," Anakin burst out, without thinking.  "All the other apprentices my age do this stuff so easily, and I'm still screwing it up!"

            Obi-Wan let out a slow, contemplative breath.  Anakin was right, of course.  For the other students, this sort of exercise was routine.  The young man didn't know why Anakin had so much trouble with it, since he was obviously very strong in the Force, but he was doing his best to correct it.  Obi-Wan only wished he knew how to help better.  Mentally he grimaced: he felt helpless without Qui-Gon's guidance.  Most new knights took a few years to find their footing, but Obi-Wan had jumped straight into training the boy on his master's request.  He was still struggling to know – let alone teach – this difficult child.  He knew he had no choice, though.  He didn't dare unload the boy off on some other knight: Anakin already felt useless.  How would he feel if his Master dumped him on someone else?

            "It takes a while to learn control," Obi-Wan said reasonably, pushing all of his own worries to the back of his mind.  "You possess the ability.  We just need to hone your skill."

            "How, when I keep braining you with silverware?" Anakin asked.  Obi-Wan couldn't help but laugh.

            "You may find that useful in a fight," he replied.  "Things flying off the walls usually unbalances your opponent a bit."

            Anakin smiled despite himself.  "I guess that's true," he conceded.  "So, what do I do now?"

            "Set the items back up on the table, for one," Obi-Wan said.  "I'll deal with the cereal."  As Anakin picked up the bowl, spoon, and box, Obi-Wan used the Force to gather the crunched cereal into the trash compactor.  He dusted a few crumbs off his blue bathrobe, then sat down in the chair opposite his pupil.  "Let's try again," he said.  "This time, I'll pull back on the items to make them harder to get.  I think that might help."

            Anakin nodded, still a bit unsure.  He closed his eyes, concentrated, and began directing tendrils of energy at the items on the table. Obi-Wan simultaneously anchored them to the table mentally, using the strongest bonds he could manage in his tired state.  Anakin took a deep breath, grasped the box with the Force, and gave it a gentle tug.

            Obi-Wan's eyes flew open at the force of that pull.  Anakin had little trouble controlling the box, now that it was tied to the table by a stronger anchor, but Obi-Wan was having a hard time maintaining that bond.  Anakin was incredibly strong.  By the time he'd finished pouring his cereal, Obi-Wan felt like he'd been mentally pulling at a boulder for an hour.  Anakin didn't seem to notice as he munched on his cereal happily.

            "Thanks, Master," he said with a grin.  "That really worked!"

            "I think I know what your problem is," Obi-Wan wheezed.  "The box was too light for you."

            "What do you mean?" Anakin asked.

            "You're too strong to start with the lightweight things," he replied, catching his breath.  "You're like a bantha cub tying to pick a tuft of lichen.  You're so strong that you can hurl a Tuskin several meters if you like, but you don't have the finesse to pick up something as small as the lichen.  You have to work backwards."

            Anakin wrinkled his nose, confused.  "So, I could life up a speeder, but I can't bend a spoon?"

            "Exactly," Obi-Wan said triumphantly.  "Though you could probably break the spoon in half, if you wanted."

            Anakin picked the spoon up experimentally and examined it.  "Do not try and bend the spoon… is that it?" he asked.

            "For you, right now, I think that's an impossibility," Obi-Wan replied.  "Give it time, Anakin.  Tomorrow we can try with something much heavier."

            "Like you?" Anakin asked with a grin.

            "Anakin-" Obi-Wan warned, but before he could finish, he felt his feet leave the floor.  He sighed, rolled his eyes skyward, and said, "Put me down before I bend that spoon 'round your neck."

            "Yes, Master," Anakin laughed.  

Obi-Wan sighed in mock exasperation.  "What am I going to do with you?"  And then he added silently to his deceased mentor, "Thanks for leaving me something to keep my feet on the ground."


End file.
